


Teach Me To Love And To Forgive

by downtonarry



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Blind Character, Blindness, Georgian Period, Multi, the character death is not for a very long time so hopefully that does not turn you off
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downtonarry/pseuds/downtonarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in 1740, Tom Branson, a clever con artist with an aptitude for writing, is working with a group of young Irish men willing to get out of Ireland in the midst of a devastating grain famine. His sights are set higher than just survival, however, and he intends to make himself wealthy and well-known.</p><p>Sybil is the youngest child of King Robert I of England and betrothed to the stuffy and solemn Lord Grey. Despite never venturing anywhere that wasn’t royal property, the princess is fully aware that life must be very interesting outside of the castle walls. </p><p>Edward is the lone prince, born after his two loud and domineering sisters but before his gentler younger one. After suffering a mysterious and nearly deadly bout of illness as a child, he became blind, doomed to be kept out of people’s sight by his father for the rest of his life.</p><p>Thomas Barrow was lucky to secure a job working as a servant for King Robert and his family, despite being a lowly one who must not be seen by the family. His luck seems to continue when he stumbles upon and returns the mysterious unseen prince’s companion dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! For this story, you may have to suspend your imagination a little bit! First, Robert and family is the replacement to King George II and family, but perhaps more importantly, my story only works if Edward is a Crawley, so there's that. ;P
> 
> Second, I am a little rough on my 18th century history, I'm quite a history buff but mostly for 19th and 20th century history, so please forgive me for any mistakes I may make. I wanted to give it a shot.

Sybil yawned slightly, the light of the morning barely creeping in through the window. Having one’s hair done every morning is such a pain, she reflected with some distaste, but she supposed it was harder on the girls that got up and did it for her. For however early she had to get up, she could only imagine the time they had to take to get ready themselves before coming up to serve her. Poor, dear Gwen, but she did it with such faith every morning. 

She imagined Mary was causing a stir in her room at her own maid. Today Mary was to meet Prince Matthew of Prussia to see if they would be a good match, but it was already off to a terrible start. For all of Mary’s misgivings, Sybil could side with her that a chosen husband was a terrible thing, and Mary had grown increasingly agitated these past few weeks as they waited for the meeting. He was apparently some relative, which bothered Sybil but apparently no one else, except maybe Mary herself. Sybil wasn’t entirely sure how closely related they were, as no one had ever taken the time to explain to her, but she could not imagine marrying an uncle or cousin without shuddering. The match suggested for herself was already daunting enough, even though she was quite sure there was no way they were related. No one had yet offered to marry Edith, which made Sybil feel somewhat bad. She might be thin and bony and have a sharp mouth to match her angular body, but she was not a bad person and Sybil could not understand why no one would offer to marry a princess anyway. 

But, with this big arrival of royalty, they had to prepare themselves extra-finely, and therefore, extra early in the day. Sybil shook her head a bit to wake herself some more, which startled Gwen. 

“I’m sorry, your highness, did I press a pin into your head? I did not think I was near to your scalp. Forgive me.”

“No, no, I’m sorry for making you jump. You certainly have more patience than I, creating all this.” Sybil waved vaguely at her head. “Not to say it doesn’t look wonderful when you are done.”

“Thank you, your highness.” Gwen dipped her head, her mouth turning up in a slight, pleased smile. “It will be done soon, and then breakfast will arrive. I will dress you after that.”

Her instructions always amused Sybil. Every morning, she explained she would come to dress her after breakfast, even though Sybil well knew. She liked this young girl much more than the woman who dressed her growing up. She was big and loud and quite bossy, and she shouted when Sybil got a small run in a stocking or spilled some food on a dress, even a nightdress. But small Gwen was never like that. Sybil was at first nervous when she met her, afraid that the fiery red hair peeking out of her cap meant she might be just as ornery, but she was in fact, perhaps a bit too gentle for her own good. It made her very fine to get along with, though. 

Gwen carefully finished inserting the last couple pins and stared at Sybil for a moment, shifting one final strand of hair up and out of the way. 

“I hope that is to your liking, your highness.”

“Indeed.” Sybil rose from her dressing table and retrieved her robe. “You may go now.”

Gwen flitted out of the room and down the hall, her feet trying to patter as quietly as possible. It was a good time to visit Edward for the morning before the hustle and bustle of activity for the day began, so Sybil slipped down the hall herself. 

Edward was a sadder case than Edith, and it made Sybil’s heart ache. She remembered her jovial older brother when she was small, who used to create havoc in the dining room and stay up far past bedtime. But one day, he grew ill to his stomach and head, complaining bitterly of feeling dizzy, and was soon squirreled away into his room with many physicians, kept far away from Sybil and her sisters. They never seemed to get what he had, but when he finally emerged, Lord could only count how many days later, he seemed so much smaller and frailer, but worst of all, had lost his sight. Sybil could still hear the shouting between her mother and father, how her mother desperately wanted Edward near while her father kept using the words “shame” and “embarrassment.” So disappear Edward did. He would sometimes roam the halls with Mother or his dog before hiding back in his room, but that was the extent of his travels.

“Edward, my dear?” Sybil tried to open the big wooden door as quietly as possible. He was sitting by the window taking in the bit of morning sun. He could see changes in the light and enjoyed it.

“Sybil?”

“Are you going to come down tonight for the arrival of the prince?”

“No, I do not believe I would be welcome. I’m sure you’re all very excited.”

“Not particularly, dearest.” Edward’s small dog, a funny short-legged thing named General, leapt onto the bed near Sybil, leaning in for a pat. He spent most of his time trying to teach the dog how to do things, and Sybil had to admit he was a quite a clever dog. Sybil knew their mother was trying to find a suitable bitch for General, so Edward would have other dogs to love after General passed, although Papa was less than interested in her search. 

“You mustn’t let me keep you, Sybil. I appreciate your company, but I understand today is not a good day for it. I’m not worth it.”

Sybil could not stand it when he spoke like that, but she got up. “As you wish.”

~  
Across the Irish Sea, far from London-

“Stop muckin’ about then, Branson, it isn’t worth it. We’ll get caught, I’ll tell ‘ya that.” Padraig shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “I’d just take a few coins and a meal. Lord, me belly aches.”

“But just imagine, more than just a meal, Paddy. And you, you lot, do you agree with him? Fine, ye of little faith, just watch.”

“The papers won’t work.”

“They’re just fine.”

Tom did feel a bit of a chill as he approached the gentleman guarding the gates. He could see joyous dancing and merriment in the mansion already, despite the distance. How good of them to dance and enjoy themselves while families were dying en masse in the countryside, he thought with contempt. But he shoved those thoughts aside and tried to look as woeful as possible. 

“Good gentleman, we ask for assistance.”

“Filthy rat, go.”

“Listen, listen to me. I’m a friend of Lord Elrich’s, here, here.” Shaky hands getting the paper, that was it. The perfect touch to make it look real. “My men and I were robbed, thank God we were not far from his home. This is all I have. It was hidden in my shoe, please, please take it.” At this point, Tom carefully retrieved the crumpled paper from up his sleeve. “My patent. Please.”

The guard raised his eyebrow at the dirty men, milling uncomfortably steps behind Tom, before taking it and looking it over. It had taken a long time to make the document look just right, but Tom felt pride that he’d done a good job. He eventually handed it back, looking slightly nervous. 

“You may enter. But if I hear any, any signs of anguish at all, you will all be dealt with.”

“We’ll let Lord Elrich be the judge of that. Old chap, haven’t seen him in years!” Tom buoyantly bounded through the gates, the rest of his group close behind.

“Wot are we going t’do next, then, Branson?” 

“Listen, Jack. Let me do the talking. I guarantee, he’ll be convinced within minutes that we were best friends as children. We’ll be washed, dressed, and our pockets filled by sunrise. Mark my words, you should trust me.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Come off it, Thomas, none of us will ever be allowed upstairs when the sun’s up. Don’t see why it concerns ‘ya. Now go, take this to the table, or you’ll have a riot on your hands.” Mrs. Patmore shoved a pot of porridge in Thomas’ hands and shooed him out of the kitchen. 

“It’s like they think we look like the inside of a chamber pot or something.” Thomas scowled. The pot was heavy and hot and not something that tasted terribly interesting. They were allowed to add some milk but it only improved the texture. Mrs. Patmore called out something from the kitchens, but Thomas was already on the way down the hall. Breakfast was always a loud and a bit smelly, which Thomas knew was life and simply a tiny version of what London was like, but that is what bothered him the most about having to stay downstairs. At least in the belly of the castle he was only had to deal with a select group of ill-mannered individuals, instead of thousands, but he imagined everyone move slowly and quietly upstairs, speaking in low, respectful tones to one another. Truly a dream. 

“Going to just stand there and leave us all hungry, Barrow?” 

Thomas looked up. He’d made it into the dinner hall but was standing there vacantly with the pot of porridge while everyone stared at him. When he’d first arrived, he’d tried to be amiable with most of the staff but soon came to realize most wanted little to do with anyone, including himself, so he had no friends. That was one of the troubles with the castle. At least outside of the castle, he had some friends from childhood. Thomas clunked down the pot on the middle of the table and took a seat instead of bothering with a response. 

“Wot’s got you looking all gormless?” Daisy, a small, very young, and rather stupid young chambermaid asked, spooning a portion into her bowl without waiting for the men. 

“Nothing, nothing. Nobody asked you.”

“You looked like you—“ 

“I looked like nothing.” It was probably a bad idea to be snappy to one of the only souls who appeared to be willing to reach out to people still, but she was young and that would still be beaten out of her. Thomas instead turned to one of the grooms from outside, a filthy dirty but grinning boy named William, who seemed to know just how practically every horse in the entire castle liked to be handled. 

“Did you still need a spot of help outside this afternoon? I could still be spared.”

“Thanks, mate, we’ve always got loads of chores. Mind, you’ll get that dirtier than it is.” William pointed to Thomas’ shirt, which did have a few stains on it, not that it mattered terribly.

Thomas shrugged and nodded. Going outside to clean horses and stalls was strenuous work, but he didn’t mind it as a change. They were always grateful and usually did him a favour in return, like lend him a horse for an afternoon.

“Did anyone hear about how the meeting went with the Prince of Germany? I’ve heard he’s dashingly handsome.” Daisy swooned slightly. 

“I heard it went poorly and Princess Mary threw the rose he presented her at his feet, but that he’s not giving up on her.” Another chambermaid named Ethelred piped up.

“How dare you speak so awfully about the Princess!” Someone else shouted, and soon there was quite a loud din going on until Mrs. Patmore came into the hall and banged on the table with her spoon. 

“ENOUGH. I don’t know what you all are creating mayhem over but it stops this instant!”

Everyone shut up and sat there spooning mouthful after mouthful of sloppy porridge into their mouth in complete silence, which was aggravating, until the bell went off and everyone got up, busy to get breakfast to those who served the family directly, such as the multitude of ladies-in-waiting for the Queen and the three princesses. Thomas got up and slipped out the door with William, glad his day would be in the sun rather than the dark halls. 

~

“Thank you, Albert, I would be lost and in shame if you hadn’t been there to clothe me.” Tom held his hand out to Lord Elrich. “I shall write you and have you up to my home. Eleanor should be delighted to entertain you. And no, I promise, the one horse will do. I couldn’t ask for a whole coach to my home, you have done so much.”

Lord Elrich shook Tom’s hand, his eyes welling up slightly. “To think we’ve finally seen each other again after all these years.”

“Truly a miracle, if a disguised one at first.” Tom leaned down and kissed Lord Elrich’s hand, then started down the pathway towards the gates, the rest of his mates hurrying to keep up. 

“How...how on earth, Branson, how on earth...” Jack was staring in disbelief at his own sleeves, clean and pressed for the first time in his life.

“I told you, I could pull off being a rich man. It takes confidence, gentlemen, confidence. Which you were all very lacking in last night, although I appreciated you efforts. And it all went well, so no harm. Anyway, once we hit the next village, sell this bloody horse.”

“What do you supposes is next, then?”

“Anything, really. I think with a lot of work we could truly make Ireland believe that we are rich men. And if they believe it, wealth will come to us.”

“But, Tom...” 

“What is it, Aedan?”

“Then won’t we be just like the very men we hate, the ones we wish would scuttle out of Ireland and then die? The ones letting our families die?”

Tom paused. He was right. His friends were looking very critically at him and he straightened up slightly. 

“Alright. That’s a fine point. So what have we left in Ireland?”

Everyone looked slightly confused. 

“I mean, our families are scattered or in jail or dead. Ireland itself is dying. We can’t very well better ourselves truly without becoming the very thing we hate. So why are we here?”

More confused looks.

“I’m saying, we have money now. A fine set of clothes each. What’s stopping us from trying England?” 

Before long, the lads were grinning, suddenly struck with the plan Tom had only come up with a few minutes before. 

“And what could we do there, Branson?”

“Anything. We have an entire country to explore. What say we try it, lads?”

 

~

“You acted despicably.”

“Oh, give up, Mama. He was a big blonde brute who thought he would get his way. He should know I’m not that easily swayed.”

“I wish you would be. It would save everyone some grief.”

“Because the Lord knows you were so happy with where you ended up.”

Mother glared at Mary and Sybil felt herself grow tense. Nobody said how often Mother and Father disagreed, but everyone knew it was a great deal. Tea time was failing miserably today, but Sybil had a feeling that it was bound to.

“Oh, good grief, Mary. Don’t shout at Mama. He’s an excellent candidate and you’ll never get someone so fine again. Word will have gotten out.” Edith took a sip of tea and glanced to the side to avoid Mary’s gaze. Sybil wished Edith would not talk that way either, because she knew Mary would only be cruel and merciless in return. She looked like she was about to be when Mother broke in.

“I will not have such talk. Mary, how self-absorbed of you to judge your Father and I’s marriage. One can fall in love after one is married.” She turned towards Sybil, looking slightly softer but still firm, and Sybil knew well this statement was also applying to her.

“My love, have you thought about entertaining Lord Grey soon? We cannot let him wonder forever why we have not invited him over sooner.”

Sybil wavered. She wished she could throw down a rose at his feet like Mary did, but it simply wasn’t in her, and she nodded. 

“Yes. Perhaps we could have a supper. Lord Grey and I could have a walk in the garden after.”

Mother nodded, looking purposefully at Mary. She turned and glared at Sybil, unsure whether to direct her attention at her rude sister or her traitorous one. Sybil stared at the pattern on the chaise lounge, slightly tracing it with her finger, feeling guilty. A footman stepped in a moment later, catching everyone’s attention.

“Your Highnesses.” He bowed and came slightly closer. “Prince Edward requests the audience of Queen Cora, as Master General appears to have, um, run off.”

Mary rolled her eyes at General being referred to as Master, but Mother got up immediately.

“Oh, he must be a wreck. Are there searchmen everywhere?”

“They have been sent out, your Highness.”

Mother rushed out the sitting room, her bustle bouncing up and down and she hurried to follow the footman. Mary sighed and took a tiny bite of pastry. 

“Don’t scoff, Mary. General would not be so important to Edward if you and Edith visited him more.”

~

The sun was growing a bit hot and Thomas was now sorely wishing he could step back inside into the cool dark downstairs of the castle. But, he had asked to come outside, and he was not going to act ungrateful. It was always a good idea at the time, to get out of the house and away from his dry and unhappy co-workers, but every time he conveniently forgot how hard it was and how much everything stank. 

“Thomas!”

He looked up, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow as he forked another load of muck out of the stall. William was trundling towards him, looking very excited. 

“There’s guards all over, searching for the prince’s dog.”

Uninteresting. 

“Are you going to help them look?”

“I think I might. There might be something in it for me if I find the rotten thing.”

“I highly doubt it, William, but go, be a good lad. If anyone asks where you are, I’ll make something up.”

“Alright.” William nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve heard he’s a small dog with short legs, white and dark brown. Big ears that stick out.”

Thomas nodded vaguely, waving William off, his patience wearing thin in the heat. He sounded like a stupid dog, unlike a proper hunting one. William trotted off to check around the back of the grounds near the stables, and Thomas rested against the stall for a moment, taking a breath of air. The stench of the stables was disgusting and Thomas found himself coughing to try and rid himself of it. The door was so close. Just a few minutes outside, breathing in real fresh air. There was a tree he could relieve himself at as well. Nobody would know if he disappeared for a moment, nobody even knew or cared that he wasn’t inside today. Thomas leapt over the side of the stable he was in and scurried out, rushing to the tree about a minute’s run away. That was much better indeed, he thought, and began unbuttoning his trousers, shifting his foot from one to the other. He’d been working hard all day, and until this moment, didn’t realize how much he had to go. 

There was a yelp underneath his feet a moment later, and Thomas looked down to see he’d stepped on the foot of a little brown and white dog, curled up underneath the shade, hidden amongst the browned old leaves at the base of the tree. 

The prince’s dog. It obviously was. It had on a fancy collar and was small enough to be a lap pet for aging ladies and baronesses. Thomas redid the buttons on his trousers and looked around. All the so-called guards searching for him were absent. William was too. Thomas knew nothing about the prince, except that he was blind, and would likely need this dog back as soon as possible, so he whistled quietly at the dog, who immediately got up into an upright sitting position. 

“Clever dog, are you? Come on, then.” Thomas whistled a few more times and began walking away, but the dog stayed put. “Come on, then, come.”

He immediately got up and walked right to Thomas’ side, almost nestling in. 

“Very clever indeed.” Thomas drew in a sharp breath of air and walked towards the back end of the castle. The dog followed at a quick pace, and Thomas momentarily entertained finding a guard and handing him back, but the little fellow was a lark. He guided the little thing back into the castle and into his tiny cupboard room, not even big enough to stretch out properly at night, tossing his soiled clothing in the corner and shoving himself into his clean set, hoping his skin didn’t wreak of stables too much. This was his chance to have a peak at the way the family truly live. He’d just pop upstairs and send the dog back into the prince’s room. The prince wouldn’t even need to know he had been there, just that some wonderful angel had returned the dog. It would be simple. If anyone saw him, he could probably get a substantially smaller punishment if they knew he had rescued the dog. 

The dog was whining and scratching at the door, and Thomas became unconcerned that he wouldn’t be able to find the prince’s room. The dog knew. He opened the door and let the dog race out of the room and up the stairs to the main floor, and Thomas nearly felt fear at following, but as he left the safety of the cellar, he saw no guards present. They were all looking for the dog, likely. Another stroke of luck. The dog bounded up a very large and fancy set of stairs, which made Thomas nervous to even look at, but he tried anyway. This would be his only chance to see such beauty and elegance. The entire place was shockingly stunning, and Thomas didn’t know where to look first, but the dog was racing ahead and down a hall, so he rushed to keep up. Portrait after portrait whizzed by at a rate that Thomas couldn’t see, but finally, the dog stopped in front of a door and stayed still. He just had to quietly let the dog in, maybe take a tiny peek at this elusive prince. Thomas opened the door a crack, just large enough for the dog to slip in, who did so.

“Hello? Mama?”

Thomas’ chest tightened. “No.”

“Who’s there?” 

Thomas opened the door a touch wider and saw the little dog walk over to the prince and jump onto his lap. The prince himself had an angular and delicate face and wiry brown hair. His face lit up at the dog, whom he gathered in his arms. 

“Who returned him? Who is it?” The prince turned his head again, staring with his empty eyes at the door.

“My name is Thomas Barrow, your highness. I’m sorry, I should not have come up.”

The prince paused. “You have an unusual voice.”

Not unusual, Thomas thought. Cheap. But the prince had probably never heard a cheap voice from a poor anyone. “Thank you,” he said anyway, feeling useless about what else to say. 

“Come in for a moment, Thomas Barrow. Where did you find him?”

“He was underneath a tree.” Thomas closed the door. “Asleep, I think.”

“Maybe he wanted to see the grand outdoors.” The prince kept petting the dog. “Is it a beautiful day, Thomas? What does it look like outside?”

“Oh, yes, lovely.” Thomas had never felt his heart beat more. “It is very blue out, but with some nice white clouds. A painter would probably enjoy today. A little hot feeling for my liking, but it is nice.” He was babbling. Was a fool he was.

The prince smiled anyways. “Good. I felt the sun through my window. I’m sure General wanted to feel it too. My name is Edward, by the way."

“Yes, yes. Your highness. I’m sorry. I should have--”

“Don’t worry. I introduced myself informally, you may call me as such.”

“I should, I should leave, your highness.”

Prince Edward nodded a little bit, looking disappointed. “Will you come visit again, Thomas? I’m happy for company.”

“I’m not sure I would be able to, your highness.”

“Are you a servant, Thomas?”

“Yes.” Thomas swallowed a lump in his throat. He had gone too far with his stupid plan and now the prince was trying to invite him practically to tea. He didn’t know who was more foolish, the prince for just inviting him up or himself for allowing this.

“Then perhaps you can come in a quiet moment. I’m afraid I don’t entertain many new guests, you’re one of the first.”

Thomas nodded, stupidly realizing a moment later that Prince Edward would not have seen it. 

“Yes, your highness. Maybe in a quiet moment. I must go now.”

“Thank you for finding General, Thomas. It means a great deal to me. Please consider visiting, Thomas.”

Thomas shut the door and leaned against it, trying to get a hold on the shakiness enveloping his body. What on earth had he done?


End file.
